Seasons of Love
by hpbrat2
Summary: The graduating class of 1998 sings in remembrance of those they lost and loved in the war. Now reposted and nearly 3 times as long as before. Please read and review!


**A/N: Yes, this is a repost. It had been edited and nearly tripled in length. I felt it deserved way more than the small amount of attention I had given it before and thus it was expanded. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the song nor anything recognizable. Only the idea, that refused to be removed after speaking with Twin, belongs to me.  
**

Graduation. It should have been a happy time. A time of celebration. And it was, in a way. It was graduation day for the Hogwarts class of 1998. They were born during the last year of the Dark Lord's first reign and they ended the Dark Lord's second reign just before their last year of school. Thirteen months of freedom, of friendship, of love.

Many were lost, but none felt more than their Savior, The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry James Potter, The-Man-Who-Won. He should have been there. He deserved to be there. To have his moment of normalcy, of just being a teen. But he wasn't.

He had survived the battle, brought the class together in friendship and unity, only to die from an uncaught infection set on by a stray curse from the final battle, not even a month previous, almost a year exactly from when he found out about it, about a month after the final battle, too late for the Healer's to do anything. Not that they didn't try, but nothing worked. Not potions, not spells, not rituals, not a combination of all of the above. But the infection had killed him, after a year of fighting against his own body, the disease won.

For the most part graduation was a typical Hogwarts graduation: the students walked and got their diplomas, the Head Boy and Head Girl gave speeches, the Headmistress spoke to the class, as did the Minister of Magic. But there were the differences as well: the empty seats they left for the friends they had lost, the moment of silence, the award ceremony for their heroic actions in the war, the memorial erected, the tears of sorrow intermingled with the tears of joy on everyone from the most emotional woman to the most stoic of their professors. Everyone felt the loss, the sorrow, and the joy that they were now free to be with the family members they had lost, to not have to feel the pain and sorrow they did on Earth, and the joy of growing up, at having a chance to fix the society they helped save. They were just kids, but everyone knew them. They were looked up to. They were heroes like Hercules or Achilles in Ancient Greece. They were the present and the future of the Wizarding World in Britain.

At the end of the ceremony, seven students stepped forward to the front of the podium, separated by only a few feet between them, with the exception of a doubly large space right in the center between Ron on the far right and Hermione, third space from the right. The space between them was for Harry. They never filled it because nobody could ever fill the shoes left by Harry. After Hermione was Neville, Draco, Susan, Blaise and Pansy. The group had grown close as they were instrumental in ending the war. Houses no longer mattered. Names and bloodlines were ignored. Friendship was what mattered.

After a minute of bringing their emotions under control, they started in unison, voices strong despite their tears:

_Five hundred twenty-five thousand  
Six hundred minutes,  
Five hundred twenty-five thousand  
Moments so dear.  
Five hundred twenty-five thousand  
Six hundred minutes  
How do you measure, measure a year?_

_In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights  
In cups of coffee  
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife._

Blaise, the stoic Ice Prince of Slytherin, had tears flowing down his tanned cheeks as he remembered the good times that he'd had with Harry. All of those nights of sneaking down to the kitchens after curfew just for a cup of coffee. He always took his plain. Harry's was never the same. Mocha, cappuccino, latte, espresso. Sometimes iced. Sometimes hot. Always filled with as much sugar and caffeine the house elves could pack into the mug. Even during the stress of the war, Harry always had a smile and a laugh for his friends.

The nights he remembered the best, though, were the nights Harry would meet him down in the dungeons, having snuck out of the Hospital Wing yet again, emerald eyes filled with tears of grief and pain and just want a hug. The awkwardness that was originally there soon disappeared as each took comfort the other was offering. They would stay side by side, often out on the roof, a large quilt wrapped around their shoulders as they watched the sunrise in the east.

They had grown close, nearly brothers, during this time. It had been so easy to turn to each other. Originally, they knew the other wouldn't share their secrets and wouldn't judge them. There was no relationship basis for them to judge. That had lasted as long as the first battle in which Harry had had to take a life (Blaise had stayed behind to help tend to the wounded that those fighting had Portkeyed back). Harry was catatonic upon his return, until he met him at midnight for coffee and the older boy had simply placed a hand on his shoulder, the first time anyone had touched him since the battle. That was the turning point in their relationship.

He would miss his baby brother. But he knew the raven would enjoy seeing his parents and godparents again. They would see each other again, he had no doubt about that, and he'd never forget the boy.

_In five hundred twenty-five thousand  
Six hundred minutes  
How do you measure  
A year in the life?_

_How about love?  
How about love?  
How about love? Measure in love_

_Seasons of love. Seasons of love_

Hermione also had tears running down her face. Harry had been her best friend, her rock, since she was eleven years old. Six years. Six measly years they'd known each other, but those years had seemed to be a life time. As they sang Harry's favorite song, she couldn't help but remember the way those bright green eyes would light up as he jumped on his broom over the pitch, eyes scanning the air for that small gold ball. That stupid little half grin when he knew he was about to say something that would frustrate her and set her off on one of her rants, be it about house elf rights, homework, skipping class, or his lack of appetite, especially near the end when the infection spread to his stomach.

She would never forget the love she felt from her best friend. Never romantic love, but it was a deep, resonating love none the less. She felt it constantly from the boy who had grown up without love. After a battle, no matter how tired or dirty or bloody or hurt he was, the first thing he did when he'd see her would be to pull her into a hug and reassure her that it would all end soon before making sure she was unhurt. Even when she was trying to comfort him from one of his horrendous nightmares, she could feel the love he felt for her and it would end up comforting her. Even as he lay on his death bed, he promised he would always watch out for her and would always be there to protect her future kids, just like he'd always protected her. She didn't doubt it. Harry was a man of his word. If he said he'd do something, he would do it, against all odds, he would do it.

Hermione smiled up at the ceiling, the sky blue and clear. '_A perfect day for flying,' _she could hear her best friend say in the back of her mind as the warmth of his spirit wrapped around her. Her voice rang out clear and bright, though her face shone with streams of tears.

_Five hundred twenty-five thousand  
Six hundred minutes!  
Five hundred twenty-five thousand  
Journeys to plan._

_Five hundred twenty-five thousand  
Six hundred minutes  
How do you measure the life  
Of a woman or a man?_

Draco, too, was not unaffected by the warm spirit of the physically tiny boy, though he knew Harry would be teasing him mercilessly about not being made of ice as he always pretended. Their relationship was rocky at first, but neither could keep away. It was hard to be separated from the boy, the man. The first time he'd nearly lost him, just after the return of the Dark Lord at the end of their 4th year, the second he could, he had pulled the trembling form into his arms and didn't let go. It didn't matter what Pomfrey said, he had not relinquished his hold around the boy. It was the first night they spent together. Nothing happened sexually, but their entire relationship had changed. They realized how fragile life really was. Nearly every night after that, even when Harry left in the middle of the night only to come back in the wee hours of the morning or his late nights where Draco was asleep way before Harry even considered coming to bed, but they slept side by side ever since. Getting used to a cold bed was hard, but whenever it got tough, he could feel those bony, arms around his waist, that pointed chin digging into his spine, just below his neck, and the soft declarations of love and eternity that Harry used to promise, always late at night, always when he thought Draco was asleep.

He would always remember the boy, his first love. His tiny lover with a huge heart. He would move on, Harry would give him an earful in the next life if he didn't, but he would never forget that messy, rat's nest of black hair, those bright, emerald eyes that could never hide what he was truly feeling, that huge smile when something good was happening or when he was amused, that showed what seemed like every one of his pearly whites and, often, a slight bit of pink tongue that liked to stick out when he was trying not to laugh. He would move on, yes, but he would not forget. Harry was his lover, his fiancé, his soul mate.

Draco took a deep breath, his left hand immediately moving up to his neck upon which their bonding rings were resting upon a chain, Harry buried in his engagement ring. He was singing his first love. He knew Harry would be touched by their song choice, though he would pout and say they shouldn't be doing this, and sang out boldly.

_In truths that he learned,  
Or in times that he cried.  
In bridges he burned,  
Or the way that he died._

Everyone joined together again, even more tears falling as the audience and their classmates listened to the lyrics of the song, so fitting for the last year. The harmony between the girls and guys, as well as the harmonizing the rest of their class was participating in gave an almost magical quality to the lyrics.

_It's time now to sing out,  
Tho' the story never ends  
Let's celebrate  
Remember a year in the life of friends  
Remember the love!  
Remember the love!  
Seasons of love!_

While everyone continued with their part, Hermione's voice rang out again above the others.

_Oh you got to got to  
Remember the love!  
You know that love is a gift from up above  
Share love, give love spread love  
Measure, measure your life in love._

When their voices faded out, there were no applause, nor did they want any. The tears and spirits they could feel of their classmates, particularly the uncontrollable warmth of everyone's friend and savior, in the room with them was more than enough for them.


End file.
